


Agent and a Half

by clouds_sanctuary



Category: Splatoon
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Future Angst, Light Swearing, Lovesickness, M/M, Machinery, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:01:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28096587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clouds_sanctuary/pseuds/clouds_sanctuary
Summary: In the new Squidbeak Splatoon, there are agents assigned to handle more unorthodox or dangerous missions than the regular Agents. You never see them on purpose.These are called the Half Agents, or the Halves.Agent 4 ½ is dispatched to gather intel on OctoZ, an all-Octoling vigilante group. It's another day of risk, another chance to protect. He has no other purpose.What he doesn't expect is to find himself lovesick over one of the members of said vigilante group.You know, the one that tried to snipe his head off.
Relationships: Inkling(s)/Octoling(s) (Splatoon)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	1. Prologue

In the Squidbeak Splatoon, there stay the Agents, trained and equipped squids sent forth to push back the Ocatarian menace.

In the Squidbeak Splatoon, there stay the Half Agents, in the shadows and behind the scenes. Cleaning up messes, taking facts and information. Putting it all together.

The Half Agents, or Halves, are hardly mentioned, let alone credited, as they are meant to be out of sight and out of mind. Those who undertake this job are aware of this and take no offense to it.

This is not to say that the regular Agents are anything to scoff at.

This is merely to say that four eyes are better than two.

Agent 3 had been sent to clear Octolings out of an area. Agent 3 ½ had to rip the seaweed from one’s head to return it to base, and not without the injuries to show the task’s difficulty.

When Agent 5 stepped to the plate, she scoped out an area of Octo Valley for photos. Agent 5 ½ stayed back with the commander to decode the symbols.

One half had attempted to steal a record from DJ Octavio. The base hadn’t heard back from him to this day.

In both Octo Valley and Inkopolis, there lies evil.

Where there is light, there is darkness.

In both Octo Valley and Inkopolis, there is allegiance to one or the other.

When light and dark meet, a reaction is sure to follow.


	2. Chapter 1: Agent 4 ½

He ran down the hall, having easily bypassed the security at the front.

He peeked around the corner, periwinkle eyes scanning the area for enemies. When he saw none, he slipped forward, glancing down at the buttons. All that could be heard in the room was the beeping of the controls and his breathing through his painter’s mask.

How was he supposed to shut this thing down again? Pale fingers raised and lowered in front of him as he tried to pinpoint exactly which buttons or what sequence of buttons would turn off the machine.

Maybe it was… this one? No, that one made a funny noise. He reached into his belt, pulling out a rolled up piece of parchment containing several symbols and colored circles. Ah. So this was the sequence.

He followed the instructions, hearing a satisfying decrease in volume of the machines and dimming of the lights.

A satisfied smile crossed his features, at least until he heard pounding footsteps. Damn, where could he go?

Hooking his boot around the sole leg of the spinning chair beside him, he kicked it towards the entrance to where the footsteps were increasing in force and volume. The door burst open with some difficulty, and two male octolings in security garb growled at him, reaching for their Octoshots.

He was faster, however.

The twin Squelchers at his hips were swiftly yanked from their holsters, and with a tumbling roll to the left, the octolings were in clear sight and easily hit by the bullet-like ink shots. Both collapsed to the ground, covered in a mess of aqua ink. The inkling darted for the door, beginning his trek to escape just as he heard a rush of static and a voice in his ear.

“Agent 4 ½, do you read? Where are you?” Marie.

“I read, Agent 2,” he replied. “I’m on my way out. Mission was successful. My presence was alerted, I have to make a quick escape.”

“Is that Leiland—I mean Agent 4 ½?” Another voice within the earpiece sounded, this one a little higher pitched.

Marie said something in the background to whom Leiland could only assume was Callie. When her voice became clearer, he knew she was addressing him again.

“Was just checking in. Get back safely, Agent 4 ½. We’re waiting on you.”

The line went dead, but Leiland hadn’t slowed down. Rather than running for the main entrance where he would surely be caught, he turned into a room that was vacant save for an octoling sat at a desk, focusing intently on the presentation being given by his colleague. They were caught off guard by Leiland’s arrival, but before they could react, a splat bomb was tossed onto the desk, causing their faces to twist up in panic as they were splattered with ink and knocked unconscious.

With some ink recovery, another splat bomb was placed by the window, the glass shattering with the explosion. A boot-clad foot stepped out onto the sill, then held up his right dualie. There was a small button on the bottom, and he aimed it forward before clicking it. Out of the tip of the gun shot a cord, four metal claws emerging from it. It wrapped around a nearby structure and Leiland pushed off the sill, swinging off and away from the building.

His dualies had a few upgrades to them, one being the grappling hook.

He glanced back, still swinging.

Mission successful indeed.

“I’m glad you were able to successfully shut down that Octarian Control Site, Agent 4 ½,” a voice from behind Leiland said. “Those damn things keep interfering with our connections.”

Leiland turned his body towards the owner of the voice, shifting on his seat. “Oh, no problem, Commander.”

Aezel smiled warmly, walking up to the table Leiland was seated at and sitting across from him. The aqua-haired inkling glanced up, curious as to what he wanted. Aezel was in his 20s, a little on the tall side, with hair (tentacles?) the color of sun-kissed sand that faded off into lavender at the tips and was up in a ponytail. His eyes were pools of cloudy blue.

“Everything okay?” he asked. “I know we’re mostly all business around here, but it’s good to check on you guys. You spend a lot of time in the base, even when you have free time.”

Leiland shrugged. “I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

“You don’t want to spend some time at home? Or in Inkopolis? You haven’t even left for Rainmaker. I remember that’s your favorite mode.”

Leiland responded with another shrug and looked down at his phone. His little brother had sent him some meme. He chuckled at it.

Aezel mirrored the action, staring down at the sleek black of the table. “I’m taking that as a ‘no, you’re not okay.’ Why are you always so cooped up in here? I admit it’s great that you’re so devoted, but you hardly take any time off. You’re still a kid, you know.”

“There’s no reason for me to,” Leiland said, not looking up. “I’m okay with staying here, sir. The Rainmaker’s always gonna be there.”

Aezel let out an exhale. While it was normal to see Leiland hanging around in the base after everyone else had left for the day, he had always been curious as to why.

“Well, if you’re sure,” he said, standing up.

Leiland gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile, at least until Aezel had left the lounge room completely. His head fell into his palm face first, fingers moving to massage his weary eyes. He really was such a loser for spending all his time here. But it wasn’t like he had a purpose anywhere else in the city. His old life had been nothing special; same routine, different day. He wasn’t helping anyone or making an impact in the world, not like he was now. He got all the training he needed. Being an agent was fun enough. He hardly had any friends anyway, not like anyone was missing him in the ranked battles. And the stronger opponents he never met didn’t know he existed. No, he was much more content to stay in what was practically his second home.

A vibration from his phone caught his attention.

**_Nick 6:48 PM_ **

_Come back soon for dinner, there’s shrimp pizza_

**_Leiland 6:48 PM_ **

_niceee save me three slices_

_or i’ll bully you_

**_Nick 6:48 PM_ **

_NO_

Leiland chuckled, finding humor in his brother’s overreactions to potential bullying. But the older inkling was never serious. It was always in good fun, he never intentionally hurt Nick. The bond between brothers was strong.

**_Nick 6:49 PM_ **

_What’d you do on your mission this time?_

**_Leiland 6:49 PM_ **

_shut down a spooky octarian control thing. it was a lot of buttons and colors, then i had to escape_

**_Nick 6:50 PM_ **

_COOOOOOOL_

Leiland clicked off his phone after that. He stood up from his seat, intending to grab his civilian clothes from his locker and exit the base to get on home. That pizza wasn’t gonna eat itself.

Leiland’s bed was cold.

He felt tired, yet he was still awake.

He had to get back to the base early tomorrow, in case there was something else to do. It was the only way for him to feel useful.

He held up his phone to check the time. 10:05 PM. The notification below it was what drew his eyes, though, as it was a text from Aezel. Since he was awake, he decided to check it.

**_Commander Aezel 10:05 PM_ **

_Evening, Leiland. Sorry to be messaging you at such a late hour, but I’m gonna need you to come to the base at your earliest convenience tomorrow. I’ve located some information on an Octoling vigilante group and I want you to gather more intel on them before Cap’n Cuttlefish gives the okay to eliminate them. I’ll tell you more about it tomorrow._

The aqua-haired teen let out an excited breath. This was just what he needed.


	3. Chapter 2: The Group

Leiland made sure he was up the next morning, dressed and ready, buttered toast shoved into his mouth as he made his way to the door. But before he could grab the doorknob, a younger voice called out for him.

“Wait! Lei!”

Leiland turned at the voice, being met with a small, black-haired inkling with eyes of lavender. He was bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet, gazing up at him.

“Lei, do you think you could bring me back another souvenir? You’re going on another mission today, right?”

Leiland gave a small smile, pulling the half of toast from his mouth. “Yep. If I don’t die, I’ll try to bring you something.”

Nick’s smile dropped like gravity pulled it down. Leiland quickly raised his hands in reassurance, expression turning sheepish. Shit. He had to remember not to even plant that seed in his younger brother’s head. “Kidding, kidding! I’ll be fine, I promise, and I’ll try to find something not dangerous or… evidence-i-cal, to bring you.”

Nick let out a laugh. “Evidence-i-cal?”

“A not evidence thing! Ah, I shouldn’t even be talking to you about this right now. I gotta go.” Shoving the last of his breakfast in his mouth, Leiland pulled the door open and headed out.

Nick stared at the shut door for a few moments before returning to the kitchen to finish his own breakfast. Leiland was so cool, becoming a Half Agent at sixteen and going on cool missions, fighting bad guys, and doing cool action hero stuff. From what he was told, it was top secret business that not even their parents knew about, and Nick had to swear every swear he knew that he wouldn’t tell anyone. It was difficult sometimes to resist the urge, but so far he hadn’t blurted out that his big brother was a Half Agent and could beat anyone up.

As he slid into his chair, alone in the silent house, he began to wonder if maybe someday he could be a Half, too. Or maybe even one of the regular Agents.

Aezel swiveled in his chair, now facing the teen that had just entered his workroom. “Agent 4 ½! I’m happy to see you here so early,” he greeted, that signature warm smile on his lips. “I knew if I could count on anyone, it would be you.”

Leiland beamed at the praise, attempting to hold down his giddiness and be professional. Noticing a chair nearby, he decided to take a seat.

Aezel picked up a manilla envelope that laid on his desk and opened it, spilling out the contents for Leiland to see. It was a collection of photos. Because he and Leiland were facing each other, he organized them for the boy and pointed to where he wanted to start.

A photo of a group of octolings, four dressed in black uniforms of latex while the rest were in black leather jackets. The uniform seemed to be a halter top that revealed the stomach, an arm sleeve on the right arm, a Firefin face mask, pants that were cut in a ‘Z’ shape on the left leg, a utility belt, and combat boots.

“This is OctoZ, an octoling vigilante group,” Aezel explained. “The ones in jackets are their followers. They seek revenge against inkling-kind for past atrocities, both personal and not. They act against who they deem able to take responsibility. This can, and has, put the lives of many innocents in danger, including non-inkling creatures.”

His finger moved to a picture of graffiti on a wall, with the group’s tag. There were photos of damage done to buildings with the tag sprayed nearby, a report for someone missing, and an assassinated inkling politician.

“Just some of the trouble they’ve caused. They always leave their tag nearby. They want people to know them.”

Leiland looked to the remaining four photos, which he assumed were the group members. Aezel pointed to the first one. An octoling with symmetrical reddish-violet hair that fell to his neck, eyes a piercing neon green. They reminded the agent of laser beams, or radioactive waste.

“Luke. He’s the leader of the group.” Aezel began. “Not much is known about him, but it can be assumed that as the leader, he is very calculating and oversees their activities. One of our past sources stated that he dabbled in mechanics, but this is yet to be confirmed. He uses the Octoshot.”

Second photo. A pink-haired octoling, purple irises glancing to the side, her hair up in a high ponytail. “This is Stacey. She’s the only female of the group. She takes care to keep their whereabouts hidden and uses a Splash-o-Matic. She’s been known to stab the weapon’s point into her targets.”

Yikes.

Third photo. Orange-haired octoling with gold eyes. His hair was mostly 'shaven', the remaining part of it spilling over his forehead and curling at the end. “Kasie. He uses the E-liter 4K. He’s known to attempt seduction on his victims with his charm, and then kill them after receiving what he wants. It’s not my place to ask what you’re attracted to, Agent 4 ½, but do not fall under his spell.”

Leiland was glad Aezel had missed the faint blush that rose to his cheeks.

The last photo. Royal blue hair shaven on the right side, covering his eye on the left. The visible eye was sky blue, and a pair of glasses was perched across his nose. “Lastly, Toho. Toho figures out where the group goes for an appearance and what they do there. We assume he goes over much of this with Luke beforehand. We aren't sure what weapon he uses.”

Aezel received a nod in response as he glanced up, seeing that the other took in and understood all of the information.

He leaned back in his chair, fingers entwined in his lap. “So, you’ll be dispatched to Octo Valley, and we need you to do everything you can to uncover any further info on OctoZ. We believe they’re planning something huge, as they’ve been quiet lately. Find what you can, report back. Agents 1 and 2 will be in contact with you on occasion. But this will be a very dangerous mission, and I won’t blame you if you decide not to take it.”

Leiland had to admit, it sounded like a lot. It wasn’t like inklings were never seen in Octo Valley, but it was rare. But he had a group to track down, information to collect, his identity to keep hidden, all while maintaining a sense of inconspicuousness during his stay. Or he could just hide the whole time. It probably didn’t matter. When he thought about it, the requirements sounded like other missions he’d had rolled into one. And that’s probably why it seemed greater than himself.

How would he know who knew what? He couldn’t just ask one of the followers, they’d find it suspicious. Especially given his attire. What did a follower even look like, anyway? Someone wearing a jacket? Where would he start looking? Or did every octoling know of the vengeful group?

What if he was caught?

That possibility loomed over his head on every mission. But the risk seemed worth it to make his _life_ worth it. At least he’d go down in agent history, right? He was helping protect people.

Because without being a Half, what else was he?

“…I’ll do it.”

And Aezel simply smiled.


End file.
